


atlas

by papparadise



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, hes so undeniably precious to me, i just, this is just me loving eliott okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papparadise/pseuds/papparadise
Summary: He was strong for Lola last night, and this morning, but now their conversation feels bulky in his mind, weighing down and pushing at his skin, and the truth is he needs - he needs relief, to be held, to feel the truth of what he told her. He needs -“Lucas - wait."
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 12
Kudos: 180





	atlas

The door is ajar when he and Lola get back to the apartment, the soft murmur of low voices barely distinguishable from within. Eliott reaches over Lola’s shoulder to push it open fully, feeling oddly heavy, sluggish. The voices die off as they enter, and it feels like slow motion as Lucas and Daphne raise their heads, a myriad of emotions crossing Daphne’s face as she takes in the sight of Lola. There’s no rush of feeling, no reuniting hug, but something quiet passes in the air between them, and Daphne nods, once, then stands up. Lola turns to him as Daphne says a near silent goodbye to Lucas, and he smiles, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder gently. She smiles back in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, almost leaning into his touch for the briefest of seconds. Then she steps back, and the two sisters are leaving, not quite together, but side by side.

The door clicks shut behind them, and the air is heavy. Lucas doesn’t look at him, but stands up abruptly - Eliott tries not to wince as his chair scrapes against the floor - making for the bathroom. And Eliott - Eliott suddenly feels the weight of the last 12 hours tumbling down on him - he feels like Atlas, bent to breaking with the weight of the sky pushing on his shoulders. 

He was strong for Lola last night, and this morning, but now their conversation feels bulky in his mind, weighing down and pushing at his skin, and the truth is he needs - he needs relief, to be held, to feel the truth of what he told her. He needs -

“Lucas - wait.” His voice sounds foreign, hollow in the heavy air of the room, and he feels himself sinking, his feet crumbling into the floorboards, his whole body compressing and bending. “Lucas…” he says again, and this time Lucas turns around, one hand resting on the doorway to the bathroom. His gaze on Eliott is hard, but not unforgiving, and Eliott’s soul cries out for him, for forgiveness. 

He holds out a trembling hand, and Lucas hesitates, but then a low whimper escapes Eliott’s throat and Lucas is there in an instant, and Eliott’s whole being cries out in relief as he anchors himself to Lucas, folding into his body. He still feels too heavy, bloated and burdened, and his knees begin to give way as Lucas wraps himself around his chest, tugging at him gently so that they both sink to the ground. Eliott feels the wall against his back and leans against it, blindly pulling Lucas closer against him and trying to focus on his smell, burying his face in Lucas’ hair. Lucas - sweet, loving, confused Lucas - simply lets him, clearly not understanding and probably still annoyed, but still sensitive to Eliott’s every emotion. Eliott feels like his soul could weep, could burst.

“Lucas,” He whispers, and Lucas tries to move away a little, to see Eliott’s face, but Eliott just needs to hold something right now, to ground himself, so he can’t help but grip tighter, and Lucas gives up, falling into Eliott’s chest.

“Lucas, my love,” He breathes in, focusing on counting the moles on the back of Lucas’ neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought Lola here without asking you.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything, and Eliott feels as though dust is settling on their bodies, piling up on this heap of limbs.

“She was in danger last night, Lucas, and I - I didn’t have time to think, I just ran. The guy there, I hit him and I, she was in danger, I just needed to get to her - “ He’s aware he’s not making much sense, but can’t bring himself to care; now that he’s opened his mouth, he can’t seem to stop what’s spilling out of it. “I’m sorry, I should have told you where I was going - and that’s, that’s another thing Lucas, I need to tell you, I…”

“Slow down, Eliott,” Lucas shushes him softly, “I’m sorry too, I overreacted. Don’t - please don’t force yourself to tell me things if you don’t want to.”

“No I, I do want to tell you, Lucas,” Dust grows thick in his throat. “It’s just - Lola and I didn’t meet at the Videoclub. We met at - there’s this thing, they’re called Urbex, and they, well, we, have these evenings - parties, in abandoned places and Lola was there and - I’m sorry Lucas, I should have, I know I shouldn’t have lied to you about it but I guess I was afraid you’d worry, and just please, forgive me, Lucas.” 

He thinks he might be gripping Lucas too tightly, but can’t bear to loosen his hands. He feels Lucas - sweet, kind, forgiving Lucas, pressing his lips into Eliott’s t-shirt-covered shoulder, then his hands find Eliott’s, skimming over his wrists and squeezing his knuckles.

“Eliott, my love,” (his love, his love, Eliott practically vibrates with it) “I forgive you, of course I do.” He exhales, Eliott feels a hot breath fan across his neck. “It hurts, being lied to, but I - I understand. And if it meant you being able to rescue Lola last night, then it was worth it.”

Lucas rises up again from his position pressed into Eliott’s chest, and this time Eliott lets him, meeting his gaze with wondrous eyes as Lucas brings a hand up to cup Eliott’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t welcome Lola, and help you,” he whispers. “You’re wonderful,” and then, “I love you.”

And he kisses Eliott’s other cheek sweetly, and Eliott’s soul just sings.

He thinks of his conversation with Lola, the aching mixture of surprise and longing he’d seen flash behind her eyes when he’d spoken about Lucas. Longing for something like this, for such a love.

He kisses Lucas' head, just behind his ear.

“I love you,” he whispers back. “I love you. I love you. I love you. My love.”.

And Lucas repeats it back to him, matches him every time, presses the words in his cheek, his forehead, his collar, his chest. He takes Eliott’s injured hand, still red and raw from last night’s struggle, and lifts it to his lips, pressing the words against his knuckles like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> my love for eliott demaury knows absolutely no bounds and if yours does then i'm sorry but you're just wrong. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading. comments are infinitely appreciated but just remember that nothing you can say will make me love eliott any less.


End file.
